Radical spirit has believers in world of trouble

Page Tools

They have only 27 members but some regard them as dangerous, Neil
McMahon writes.

He is not your average preacher.

David McKay is married to Cherry, his high-school sweetheart,
extols the virtues of regular masturbation, encourages people to
give away their spare kidney, and expects his followers to share or
give away all their worldly goods.

The leader of the Jesus Christians also wants to spread this
gospel around the world, a mission that led Australian couple
Roland and Susan Gianstefani to Kenya. They are now trapped there,
accused of kidnapping and fearful they may face years in
prison.

It is the latest turn in the unlikely tale of a group based on
the idea of "voluntary poverty", as practised by Jesus Christ.

The Jesus Christians, founded by McKay in Victoria in the early
1980s and now based in Sydney, claims just 27 members worldwide,
but it has been targeted by campaigners who consider it a dangerous
cult.

To Susan Gianstefani, that is "just a word to generate fear" - a
lot of fear, apparently, if her experiences are any guide.

Originally from Melbourne, she and her husband were first
battered by a media storm five years ago in Britain, where they
were charged with contempt of court for refusing to reveal the
whereabouts of a 16-year-old boy, Bobby Kelly. Now in Kenya, they
have been charged with abducting a 27-year-old woman.

The case presents dilemmas for Kenyan authorities: as with Kelly
in 2000, Betty Njoroge says she was with the Gianstefanis of her
own free will. They are, Njoroge told the Herald, victims of
a plot by her wealthy father to stop her joining the sect.

Her father, Fred Njoroge, is extremely wealthy, she says. Susan
describes him as "not just rich, he's very rich".

It is influence they say he used when his daughter, having met
Susan on a Nairobi street handing out Jesus Christians literature,
announced her plan to spend time with the group.

It was early June, and she had taken the couple to meet her
parents. "They were very hostile," she recalls, particularly to her
intention to take her seven-year-old son, Joshua, "but if I was
going to do this, he was going to have to live with me and be a
part of it, so I had to see if he could adjust to it."

Njoroge went ahead regardless but on June 17 her father took
action. As Roland Gianstefani proselytised on the streets, four
police officers pulled up in a black Mercedes-Benz and took him
into custody.

He was held for 10 days without charge, despite Betty Njoroge
assuring police she had not been kidnapped.

After inquiries by the Australian High Commission, Roland was
charged with abduction on June 27, but still not released on bail.
In the meantime, police had issued a warrant for his wife's arrest.
Njoroge went into hiding from her family. "They were very hostile
and I felt very threatened by that."

Roland was released on bail on July 11; his wife has since been
charged, and they will both appear in court on September 2. They
fear Njoroge's father has the money and influence to make the lack
of evidence irrelevant.

"It's very scary that this guy has so much power," Susan says.
The couple could be convicted and jailed. Or, they have been told,
the trial could be adjourned over several years, leaving them
trapped because their passports have been taken from them.

She says Betty Njoroge's experience brings back memories of her
family's reaction when she joined the Jesus Christians after
leaving school in Melbourne 18 years ago. "They tried to stop me,
they even went to the press." The relationship has not improved,
buckling further when she followed the lead of David McKay and
donated a kidney to an American man she did not know. Several
members claim to have done it, prompting moves in Victoria to stop
the practice amid claims McKay was urging a "living sacrifice" to
God.

Back in Waterloo, McKay contemplates this latest storm with the
equanimity of a man used to controversy.

A native of New York, he came to Australia in 1968 and founded
the Jesus Christians after a brief attachment to the Children of
God, also known as The Family, in the 1970s.

He abandoned that sect due to its philosophy of "free love" and
its treatment of children.

He bridles at the word cult. "It's worse than axe murderer,
worse than pedophile." Besides, he says with a wry chuckle, with
only 27 members the Jesus Christians wouldn't have the wherewithal
to abduct or brainwash anyone, even if they wanted to.